


All I've ever known

by hazelandglasz



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M, Male Homosexuality, Twisted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:59:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is something about the new recruit that unsettles Reid, and on more than one level.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I've ever known

**Author's Note:**

> It all started because of a discussion I had with a couple of friends on Tumblr, about how we want Darren Criss to play a psychopath on Criminal Minds  
> I just ran with the idea I had  
> Title from Lawrence Gowan's "A criminal mind" (fitting, don't you think ?)

There is something about the new recruit that unsettles Reid, and on more than one level.

Everett Sirc had been brought in to replace Blake as she took a well-deserved break - young, bright, talented in his field (which happens to be Linguistics, with a specialty in semantics) and most importantly, eager to fit in the team.

Maybe too eager.

There is something in the way he never fails to bring everybody the perfect drink or the perfect snack to start the day that puts Reid on edge.

The fact that he finds himself — well, attracted, to the young man doesn’t make it any easier.

Reid has never tried to label his sexuality; first of all, who has the time for that? Second of all, it seems like an entire waste of his brainpower to try to determine who he finds attractive in a sexual endeavor.

More than anything, Sirc’s permanent cool in the face of the horrors they work on is both a worrying factor and a tremendous attractive one.

And if he’s not mistaken, he’s being wooed : even if Everett brings drinks to everybody on the team, he always keeps Spencer’s for last, the cup in solid ceramic instead of the paper ones the others have, and he brings them lunches that can only be shared.

It’s the first time in his life that Spencer Reid is being courted, and he can’t help but find it nice.

No matter how much his brain screams at him that something is not right.

—-

“Sorry, Spence,” Everett says with that smile that sends shiver down Reid’s spine, “but Everett has left the building.”

That makes him frown. “You’re not schyzophrenic,” he replies, keeping his voice and his hold on his weapon steady.

Everett laughs. “Nope - but it was worth it just to see your face twist in fear, even just for a second,” he replies, before leaning against the doorway, playing with his bloodied knife. “So tell me, Spencer,” he continues, letting his tongue crap around the last syllabe like he has done under other circumstances, “what are you going to do to me with that big gun of yours?”

_"Hm, what are you going to do to me with that big cock of yours?" Everett asks playfully, his hands roaming down Reid’s back as the taller man lets his hips roll against him._

Reid has to clench his jaw to keep himself safe - the throbbing pain in the side of his head, where Everett slashed at him without so much of a warning, is starting to make him see double, but the pain in his chest is even worse. “Was making me fall for you part of your plan?”

"Nope, just a very enjoyable side-dish," Everett replies, his smile turning soft for a second.

For a second, Reid can think of the nights they spend together without feeling like the other man is carving his heart out of his chest. For a second, he can let himself believe that he was loved.

And then the moment passes, when a dark shadow passes in Everett’s eyes.

Those eyes that looked into Reid’s with so much passion he forgot his name.

“You won’t arrest me, you know that right?”

Reid frowns at his former lover, at their suspect, at the man who has been killing without much of a victimology, who has been killing for the thrill of it - his own words.

"If I may," Everett interrupts Morgan and JJ’s debate politely, standing up to catch their attention, "the lack of link between the victims should be a hint for us."

“Keep going,” Morgan replies, crossing his arms over his chest while JJ huffs but stays silent to let the younger man talk.

“He’s obviously not killing because something tells him to, or for revenge over some dark figures from his past,” Everett explains, his fingers fluttering and Reid fights the blush that creeps up as he recalls what those fingers have so skillfully performed on his body just a couple of hours ago. “Maybe he’s, quote unquote, just, a psychopath that loves killing like others, more normal people, like collecting stamps or jogging.”

“That would explain the absence of evidence, even though the crimes are so violent,” JJ says slowly and Everett beams at her. “That will only make him more difficult to catch though - good job, Sirc!”

“You think I’ll let you go because you gave me a couple of decent orgasms?” Reid snarls, a part of his brain incapable to process the fact that he’s using such a crass language.

"More than a couple, and more than decent," Everett replies cheerfully, as if this is only lovers banter. "But no, I don’t take you for _that much_ of a fool,” he adds, his smile stretching into a smirk.

Reid takes a deep breath - it wouldn’t do him, or the Bureau, any good if he shot one of his colleagues on the spot. Sure, there is a knife in the other man’s hand, and he could plead self-defense, since he’s already been hurt, but the thing is, no one knows of his suspicion about Everett Sirc. He kept them to himself, and his decision has come back to bite him in the ass.

“Suicide by cop, really?” he asks nonchalantly, fighting the tears that threaten to escape. “Seems a bit of a coward’s route.”

Everett’s smile is back, that soft, generous, lovable smile. “Not if I manage to traumatize you for a year or two,” he says softly and Reid is momentarily paralyzed by fear. “My beautiful, smart, naive Spence,” Everett adds and a short sob comes out of Reid’s throat.

He shoots Everett in the knee, incapacitating him. “I won’t kill you, Rett,” he replies, using the pet name he has moaned so often, “but you won’t escape either.”

“Come on, Reid,” the man replies, his body rolled into a tight ball around his injured leg. “Is that all you got?”

Reid approaches and knocks the knife from his limp hand. “For you, and for now?” he asks, getting as close to his face as he dares, “Yes, that’s all I’ve got.”

—-

“He has been sentenced,” Penelope says softly as she pushes a plate of oatmeal cookies toward Reid.

“Hmm?”

"Everett," she adds, "He has been judged yesterday."

“I know.”

_Standing behind the bars, Everett manages to rock the orange suit. It’s unfair, Spencer finds himself thinking, that the man still looks so good._

“Two life sentences.”

"I know."

_“Came for a marital visit?” Everett asks with his crooked smile that makes Reid’s knees just a little bit weaker, even after — after all of it._

"I’m sorry, Spence," Penelope adds, her voice still soft and motherly.

Reid straightens up and takes a cookie with a little smile. “Nothing to be sorry about, Penelope,” he replies, and she pats his cheek as she leaves him alone.

_"Maybe," Reid replies, pulling at the white shirt that pokes from the suit’s collar to get the man closer._

Maybe Reid has run with monsters for too long.

God help him, but he loves that ride.


End file.
